


Tow Line

by printfogey



Category: One Piece
Genre: Angst, Drama, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-24
Updated: 2011-03-24
Packaged: 2017-10-17 06:11:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/173766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/printfogey/pseuds/printfogey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: Zoro's defeated in battle and has to deal with it. Usopp is worried about him. Can be read as Zoro/Usopp but doesn't have to be.<br/>Spoilers/setting: Post-Thriller Bark; set after an unspecified non-canon battle with unknown (but very strong) non-canon opponents.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tow Line

**Author's Note:**

> Betaed by tonko-ni and very much the better for it; however, all remaining errors and other flaws are my responsibility alone. Nitpicks and general concrit is very welcome, as is feedback in general.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: The characters and situations of One Piece were created by Eiichiro Oda and are owned by him and (I think) Shueisha Publications. They are used here without permission for entertainment purposes only. This fic is not intended for and not to be used for profit in any way.

He couldn’t do this.

Well, the actual physical carrying his inert crewmate on his back – that he could perhaps manage, at least for this step, and maybe the next one, and the one after that… He’d been knocked around a lot so far, but the hardest hits had been taken by others, as was usually the case. But to keep going, not only up this infinitely long hillside, but also who knew how long of a stretch after that; getting to safety, making sure Zoro wasn’t hurt any more – the responsibility felt impossibly heavy, especially when it was hard to breathe and his heart was somewhere dark and low and his mind was dizzy with the unreality of this.

It wasn’t the blood – Usopp had seen Zoro bleed more than this, had seen deeper wounds and bigger bruises, and ugly burns all over his body. It wasn’t even quite the way his body had lain there, looking smaller than it really was, limbs at wrong angles and twisted and, and – his mind refused the word _broken_ , wouldn’t use it – it was wrong, all wrong… He shut it out shaking his head firmly, then winced at what he was doing. Zoro seemed to have passed out by now, though, so he wouldn’t feel the movement.

It was the look on Zoro’s face when he’d found him, when the others had finally succeeded in distracting the remaining enemies enough so that Usopp could run up to him to get him away from the battlefield. They’d been lucky, by then – the strongest ones, the ones Luffy and Zoro had fought, had already been called away on something really urgent. Maybe those guys didn’t think the Strawhats posed any real threat to their underlings. Zoro had been conscious then, at least, Usopp was sure of it: he hadn’t said anything when Usopp had cried out, but he’d seemed to return Usopp’s gaze and there’d been awareness in his eyes; and recognition, too. But nothing else. He’d looked all gray, as if from blood loss, but Usopp doubted it was just that – he usually didn’t look half as bad, while bleeding more… And there had been a distant, detached look on his face that was horribly unnerving, like he wasn’t there any more. Like he wasn’t _anywhere._

Wherever it was that Zoro had gone, Usopp didn’t know the way. He knew he couldn’t follow him there.

All he could do was take another stumbling step as he kept shoving himself up the hillside, sweaty with exertion and all worn out from so much panic and adrenaline and despair. The sounds from the battleground behind him hadn’t ceased: there were still explosions, rumblings, so many things shaking and being broken apart. But it felt like he could hardly hear it. There was a terrifying stillness inside him, now, one that had dug its claws in him and wouldn’t let go.

He pushed his head down and kept walking, forcing himself into a run at times, knowing all the while he wouldn’t be able to do this. He’d collapse soon enough. Any second now. Or an enemy would show up and attack again, and that would be it. He just wanted to lie down and _stop…_

There was no way he could do this, he knew.

And kept walking.

 

*

Strange landscapes drifted past him, roads passing him where he was, fields and mountains and valleys rising and descending like huge storm waves. He met people he didn’t know and had to talk to them in a language he’d never learned, not understanding a word he was saying. He saw battles from afar without getting involved. Sometimes he caught a glimpse of the sea from where he was, and it was gray and calm and lifeless. He had no reason to be cold.

There was some way it all hung together and made sense but he couldn’t grasp it. It wasn’t for him to grasp. He was just to be here, to walk here, to have the landscape pass him by until it didn’t want to anymore. That was all he was allowed.

Then those strange lands must have tired of him and pushed him away. As he felt it all recede from him, going deeper into the mist, it was all sinking out of mind and he was already forgetting it.

Then he realised his eyes were opened, and he appeared to be awake and alive.  
He lay on a bed in a small room. Someone else was in the room too, and it seemed to be a crewmate, but Zoro felt too spent to wonder who. His vision was still fuzzy and irregular.

“Dream…?” he mumbled.

The other person started and Zoro turned his head slightly at the movement. Now he saw it was Usopp, sitting on a chair by the bedside.

“…You’re awake!” Usopp’s voice was thick with emotion; then he sniffled and blew his nose. “No, no, this is real.” He pinched his arm. “Oww! See?”

“Luffy…?” Zoro’s voice was very hoarse. He tried to get a better look at the room, trying to remember if this was some place on Thousand Sunny or somewhere else. Sunny had so many rooms, it was hard to remember. But Zoro didn’t think he’d ever seen this particular narrow room before, with its one thin window in a slanted wall, a heavy-looking door on the other side of the room, and its own small fireplace.

“He’s all right,” Usopp said quickly, wiping his eyes. “He was almost as bad as you for awhile, but now he’s practically like normal.”

“”Ev’ryone…?” mumbled Zoro. There was a very familiar smell of medicine and liniment in the room.

“Everyone else is okay now, too. Luffy… Luffy was here when you woke up before – uh, that was yesterday… I guess you don’t remember, you fell asleep again real fast…”

Zoro blinked, trying to think. The image rose in him of a scuffed-up strawhat brushing against his hair and forehead, a sleeping Luffy leaning with his head on the bed right next to him, a warm rubber arm holding his shoulder, not letting go.

“Thought that… wuzza dream…” mumbled Zoro. He looked drowsily up at the ceiling, frowning. Nah, no way was this on Sunny. Besides, he realised now, there weren’t even any rocking ship movements.

Usopp must have noticed his questioning look, because he went on to explain, “We’re in a house by the harbour. It’s safe, for now. Some friends live here. We met them after you passed out, but they’re reliable.”

“Oh.” Zoro gave this an acknowledging nod, then clenched his teeth as the movement sent a spasm of pain through his head and neck.

“Um, Chopper said you should have a few spoons of this as soon as you woke up…” Usopp started to fiddle with a big bottle on the upended crate next to the bed, his hands shaking. “M-man, why does he have to screw the lid on so damn tight…?”

Zoro closed his eyes again and concentrated on breathing. It hurt far too much to be a dream, but he still didn’t quite feel as if he was really here.

He felt long ago. Far away. Someone else.

“All right, now open your mouth.” Usopp’s voice was closer now, lower and calmer. Zoro frowned as he opened his eyes and saw the black, gunky stuff on the spoon held out in front of him. It was new to him, so Chopper must have either come up with something new or bought it here in town. At least it didn’t smell too awful, just kinda sharp and medicine-like. But he opened his mouth and swallowed, all the same. It tasted pretty bad.

“One more,” Usopp insisted. Zoro glared up at him, but Usopp glared right back and kept pushing the spoon towards him. He was looking pretty tired, Zoro saw now. Bloodshot eyes, worry lines and an unhealthy tinge of green in his face, bandages on his right arm, shoulders and torso. But he wasn’t backing down and he clearly wouldn’t so Zoro sighed faintly and opened his mouth again.

The vile stuff made him cough briefly, which hurt in more places than he wanted to think about. Usopp sat back and kept studying him closely, something more guarded mixed with the worry on his face. There was a good long silence.

“Lost,” said Zoro finally, quietly. “I lost against that guy. He beat me.” And there it was. He’d admitted it.

There was a part of him that still didn’t think he should say this out loud, as if that would make it more real than it already was, which was a stupid, childish thought. But there was also an old sense that talking about it might mean disrespecting Luffy’s choice to never bring the issue up. That this should be between Luffy and Zoro only. Only it wasn’t, had perhaps never been.

And the part of him that thought so felt walled off from the rest of him now. Everything seemed so damn far away and he didn’t know how to get back; how to regain it all. But he had no energy to ward off the truth any more. Nor the will to do it.

Usopp flinched, weirdly enough. “You’re alive,” he said tightly. “You survived, that’s what’s important. Never mind that other stuff” – he waved vaguely, quickly – “or, well, I guess you can worry about it later if you want, but not now…” He raised the spoon again. “One more, okay?”

“Lost,” Zoro repeated, after swallowing down another spoonful of black sludgy stuff. “Promised him I’d never lose, but I did. Promise… broken.”

“But -but that guy… he wasn’t really a swordsman, though,” mumbled Usopp. “It wasn’t… wasn’t like an official fight.”

“Feh,” said Zoro, shrugging, then wincing at the pain. “That wasn’t… wasn’t what I promised.” His voice was flat and matter-of-fact, though hoarser and weaker than usual. “Hid behind that before, I guess. Lost before, you know. Luffy never said a thing. But that… that doesn’t change it.” He frowned, paused for breath and for thought. “Maybe… maybe those weren’t meant for me to fight in the first place. Like that Enel guy on Skypiea… meant for Luffy. But that still. Wasn’t the promise.”

Other moments came to him unbidden, though they all seemed a bit colourless and distant now, as with everything else. Rob Lucci in Iceburg’s mansion, tossing him away like a used handkerchief after having done the same to Luffy… Kuma without a scratch on him back in Thriller Bark, when Zoro had realised what the stakes were there. At least then he thought he’d pay the full prize for losing while still saving what mattered the most.

Usopp finally put the spoon and the medicine away. Instead he got up and poured some water from a pitcher into a tin mug. “I should have done this before… what’s wrong with me,” he muttered, sitting down again and inching the chair closer to the bed as he did so. “Here, you need to drink… uh, wait a minute, I’ll help you.”

He put one hand behind Zoro’s neck to help hold his head up. He was very gentle about it, as if Zoro would break if he was too rough, which was ludicrous and would have been annoying, normally. But an image of Usopp’s white, wide-eyed, disbelieving face as he’d found him after his defeat flashed in Zoro’s mind, and he vaguely recalled his crewmate picking him up and starting to stumble away from there. He decided not to get annoyed about overly careful handling right now. Though he still might have been, if this had been Sanji instead.

The water tasted good, really good. He finished it slowly but steadily, then sank back as Usopp lowered him back down.

“Broke it,” he went on before Usopp could start saying anything else. It hurt a bit to talk, he noticed distantly. “But that doesn’t… doesn’t mean it’s meaningless. That it’s… gone. The promise. I’ll still try to… still try…” He struggled to put his thoughts into words, not quite knowing what they were, finding it out as he spoke. Could you even say you’d try to keep a promise that had already been broken? Maybe you couldn’t. But, if he was honest, that was what he had been doing for a long time now.

“Otherwise… bad excuse,” he mumbled, wincing as a wave of pain shot through his upper body. “Excuse for not trying.”

“I know,” said Usopp quietly, again holding up Zoro’s head so he could drink, and holding the mug to his lips. “I figured that out a while back.”

Zoro focused on drinking, swallowing, breathing. “Shame,” he whispered after a while, “shame’s a good thing. Always thought so. It pushes you along… keeps you moving… makes you force yourself more. To get stronger.”

“If you don’t drown in it.”

Zoro closed his eyes. “Never had that problem.” Shame could feel like a very heavy load at times, but it had always seemed to push him in the right direction. “Didn’t know others might.”

“You always knew,” said Usopp, his voice suddenly tight with certainty and something else, something harder. Zoro looked up, not quite knowing how to read that intense stare. “You always _knew_ you’d win,” Usopp went on. “That eventually you’ll be the greatest swordsman. Like Luffy will become the Pirate King. You’ve just always known, for as long as I’ve known you. That’s why we all know it too.”

Zoro blinked, thinking it over. It was true. And in another way, it was not quite true. He needed to be ready to win, and he needed to be ready to die. Those things went together, always.

They’d still go together.

Part of him was saying even now, why are you lying down, all weak and pathetic, making everyone worry? Get up, start training… Get stronger. They’re all counting on you.

But was he thinking that simply because he felt the weight of their trust and affection, or more selfishly, because he needed that extra incitement to keep going, that spur in his side driving him further…?

He didn’t really know. But he did know that nagging part of him was the same one that felt off from the rest, weaker than usual. It was necessary, it would drive him still… but maybe right now he needed to listen to other things, just for a moment.

Usopp was looking down at him with tired, sleepy eyes, leaning one elbow on the crate that served as bedside table, yawning slightly, comfortably. He reached out to touch Zoro’s forehead hesitantly. The gentle touch felt pleasant enough though not particularly cool, so Zoro was guessing he didn’t have any fever. He hadn’t noticed before how tough and calloused Usopp’s hand had gotten.

“That’s good, you’re not too hot,” said Usopp, slowly removing his hand, then scratched his nose thoughtfully. “I don’t know what would be the right way for you,” he went on quietly. “’Cause, well, you know… I promised myself back then I’d get the money back, from the Franky Family. No matter what. But I didn’t. And then I thought that was it. And then I got back up and tried to fight again. Sometimes I can do that, sometimes not. That’s all I know. But that’s what you’ve always done, too, only much better… But…” He looked down at his hands, fiddling with the bandages on his right arm. “…I believe you’ll reach your dream even if you lose again. Even if, if you lose an arm or, or your eyesight or anything else. I still believe you’ll be the best swordsman. We all do.”

“Don’t jinx me,” muttered Zoro, then closed his eyes again and sighed, a long slow sigh going through his whole body, a tension he hadn’t even known was there dissolving into blank relief.

He felt like a ship that had slipped away from its moorings and was drifting through thick mist. Only now there was a tow line tied to it, and he could allow himself to be slowly towed back.

Outside this room there were familiar snores and footsteps and low voices talking. Maybe he was just imagining things, but he felt like he could have sensed his crewmates’ presence even without those hints. Asleep or not, they were all waiting for him.

There were new paths he needed to take, new ways he could grow. He knew he could find them, now. If he didn’t stop listening.

_If you can do it, I can._

Usopp’s hand stroked his cheek, again in a hesitant and almost hurried way, as if ashamed of its own tenderness. Zoro didn’t know what the best way to react to that was – if he smiled his crewmate would probably think he was going nuts, and might force more disgusting medicine into him – so he just kept his eyes closed, pretending to be asleep already. He was feeling pretty sleepy, anyway.

A few minutes later, the sounds of Usopp’s feet trying to tiptoe out of the room and then lots of excited whispers going on outside it were the last things Zoro heard before sleep claimed him for real. He knew someone else would take over the bedside guard, and he’d wake up to a different face next time. That was fine.

And it went both ways, he knew. _If I can do it, they can._

I’m not giving up, Kuina. I’ll still be here, Luffy.

Wait for me.


End file.
